


Hoop

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elijah’s doll looks around.
Relationships: Connor/Elijah Kamski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 87





	Hoop

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Technically, Elijah doesn’t need the tablet next to him—he could simply recite his running thoughts to the room at large, and Connor would record every word and read it back when told—any calculations Elijah couldn’t do in his own head, Connor could, and it’d be so easy to splice those complicated algorithms right into his broader theories. It wouldn’t even take up all of Connor’s consciousness, but it would take up enough to be counterproductive. Elijah prefers to leave Connor to other things. Tablets worked just fine for him before his ingenious invention, and they still work well enough. Sprawled out in bed, smack in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon, he scrolls through a myriad of his own ramblings and fills out the ideas that grab him. 

Connor lies beside him, not entirely covered up by the white sheet draped over Elijah’s lap. Gorgeous from head to toe, Connor’s completely naked, lacking the drying sweat that covers Elijah but still streaked with evidence of their morning. Connor’s body is turned towards his master, his arm strung over Elijah’s chest, but his eyes are elsewhere—Elijah can see the blue circle whirring in his peripherals. He hasn’t the faintest clue what Connor’s thinking but imagines it’s something more interesting than the inane subroutines that fill all the Chloes. Connor’s a _special_ model. His greatest prototype yet—perhaps even too great to allow to market. Connor has a certain spark that none of the others have, not even Markus—he has _curiosity._

His fingers fiddle with the sheets on Elijah’s other side, mimicking a coin trick he picked up not long ago. Elijah never ordered him to learn it, just left him to his own devices. Connor has very few orders and quite a few separate tendencies. Connor squirms closer to Elijah’s naked body, which gives Elijah pause. As eager as Connor is to analyze everything he can and relentlessly pursue whatever objective he’s currently entertaining, he rarely shows interest in Elijah’s more _human_ training. 

He hooks his chin over Elijah’s shoulder. There’s a subtle breeze across Elijah’s neck—a deliberate simulation: Connor has no need to exhale. Connor’s soft lips part, and his face tilts thoughtfully. Elijah lowers his tablet, attention turning fully to Connor’s ministrations. 

Connor nuzzles his nose into the shell of Elijah’s ear and tentatively licks behind it. The wet tickling sensation sends a shiver down Elijah’s spine. Connor is often kittenish in bed, coltish even, but only during the main mission: _get his owner off._ Elijah’s already comfortably come; Connor shouldn’t see any further need for affection. 

His tongue laves over the single ring piercing Elijah’s cartilage. Elijah reaches under him to cup his chin, gently turning him so that their eyes connect. Connor’s brown eyes are _beautiful_ , and certainly more full of _life_ than past models, but not nearly _enough_. The needless cuddling is a good sign, at least. A mere machine wouldn’t _cuddle_ unless told to. 

Connor offers no thoughts, not until Elijah asks, “What are you doing, pet?”

Connor visibly hesitates. It’s a mimicry skill even the Chloes possess, but nonetheless impressive. Then Connor answers, “Your earring.”

Elijah’s lips twist up. “What about it?”

Connor blinks. He remains perfectly still in Elijah’s grasp, nothing but his mouth moving—his chest doesn’t rise and fall, his thighs don’t quiver, the foot hooked over Elijah’s ankle doesn’t tantalizingly rub him the way it did during love-making. Connor asks like a webpage missing data: “What is the purpose of it?”

Elijah’s grin twitches. He pets Connor’s chin, amused, and murmurs, “Come, Connor. You know better than that.”

His brow furrows. He’s so _adorable_ when his computations reach dead ends. Eventually Elijah will have to sell him, send him off on one contract or another and build a whole new better model, but it’ll be such a _shame_ to lose this particular beauty. Connor says, “I don’t understand.”

“The only function is to look good.” That’s enough, but Elijah can’t resist adding, “I’m a rather handsome man, don’t you think?”

Of course Connor agrees, “You are exceptionally attractive.”

Elijah chuckles, pleasantly surprised by the ‘exceptionally.’ Connor tilts his head again. No doubt, the earring didn’t make it into his calculations on typical human beauty standards. It doesn’t matter. Elijah finds himself leaning over and brushing a kiss across Connor’s cheek: a reward for being so wondrously naïve. As he pulls back, Elijah brushes his fingertips over Connor’s ear and purrs, “Should I put one on you?”

There’s a split second where Connor looks taken aback. Then it’s gone, and he answers smooth as silk: “You may do whatever you like with me.”

Naturally. Elijah likes running his body ragged, pushing his sensors to the limits, driving into him hard and ordering him to chase that rush—the intimate contact of skin-on-plating and two probing mouths and whatever data he can lift out of Elijah’s sweat. Elijah also quite enjoys leaving him on his own and watching him sniff every clue in the room like a keen little puppy. Elijah thumbs Connor’s lower lip and decides: “I think I’ll leave you unblemished.”

Connor dons a small smile. He must prefer that, even though his eyes drift back to Elijah’s ear, still rife with interest. 

Elijah settles back onto the pillow and returns to his work, content to let his lover play.


End file.
